


Just a Kiss

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Fandom Birthday Playlist [16]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College Best Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 16:13:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18608017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: She turned then and fled from the tree and the fireflies and the moonlight. Fled from her best friend who could apparently kiss the living hell out of her. A Captain Swan version of the Lady Antebellum song "Just a Kiss." For kday426 on her birthday.





	Just a Kiss

_ Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight. Just a touch of the fire burning so bright. And I don’t want to mess this thing up. I don’t want to push too far. Just a shot in the dark that you just might be the one I’ve been waiting for my whole life.  _

Emma never knew that the country could be so loud. She was far away from the wedding band and the partying guests, yet the air held a cacoph o ny of sounds. She’d always been a city girl, so she couldn’t really identify what they all were. Crickets, she knew for sure. The croaking of frogs maybe? That shrill, unceasing screech, however? That one she couldn’t place, but it was sure annoying as hell. At least far away from the fairy lights of the wedding tent the mosquitos had stopped plaguing her. An outdoor wedding in New Orleans? What was Tiana thinking?

Despite the bugs, and the strange sounds, and the shadows cast over the bayou by the full moon, she still preferred it here than back under the wedding tent. Out here Mary Margaret wasn’t trying to play matchmaker. Out here there was no DJ barking out ridiculous things like “lady’s choice” or “all the single ladies out on the floor” while he pumped out Beyoncé. Emma reached down and slid off her strappy heels, then sagged against the bark of the magnolia tree she had sought solace beneath. 

“Hiding, Swan?” 

She jumped as she spun around, pressing her hand to her heart. “Shit, Killian, you scared me to death!”

He just chuckled as he sauntered closer, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dress pants. “Sorry, love. I saw you head this way and was worried you would get eaten by a crocodile down here.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Louisiana has alligators, not crocodiles.”

He shrugged. “Fairly certain they would both eat you.”

“What a lovely thought.”

Killian leaned against the tree casually. They had always felt at ease around each other ever since they met her freshman year of college. His best friend David had dragged him over to be his wingman while he hit on her roommate Mary Margaret. The rest, as they say, is history. Mary Margaret and David married back in the fall, and Emma and Killian became  best  friends. They hung out with the same group all through college, leaning on each other through finals, drinking binges, and nasty breakups. Especially breakups. Neal Cassidy had done a number on her, and Killian’s literal affair with a much older  Milah  Gold hadn’t ended much better. Killian had offered her a strong shoulder to cry on, and Emma had in turn been there for him when he drowned his misery in rum. 

They understood one another. 

Emma lifted her long blonde locks off her sticky neck. “How is it this hot at the end of April?”

“You think you’re melting? I’m British. I’m wondering if this is what hell feels like. And you lucked out with the much cooler wardrobe.” Killian gestured at her spaghetti strap, knee length sundress. 

“Hideous color, though,” Emma said, wrinkling her nose. “Blondes shouldn’t wear yellow, or at least I think that’s a fashion rule. I look like a lemon meringue pie.”

“Nonsense, Swan, it brings out the gold in your hair.”

She snorted, used by now to Killian’s over the top compliments. She added another eye roll for good measure.

“You know,” Killian teased, “most men would be offended by your constant eye rolling. I, on the other hand, take great pride in how often you grace me with them. And as for your aversion to wearing yellow, need I point out that I am wearing the same shade? Only in the form of this hideous bow tie?”

He grimaced as he tugged at the offensive accessory, which was indeed lemon yellow. Emma had to admit it wasn’t his best color, but he looked handsome nevertheless. She was used to his chest hair breathing, so the bow tie was out of character, but he wore the suspenders well. Extremely well, actually. She averted her eyes when she realized she was staring. 

“So, um, are we going to have these things constantly now?”

“You mean  _ weddings _ ?” He started undoing the bow tie, and that was a good look, too.

“Yeah, and I think I’m going to fit into that category of  _ always a bridesmaid _ .”

“I think the old wives’ tale requires you to be a bridesmaid three times before you’re doomed to singlehood, so I think you’re safe.” Now he was the one rolling his eyes. “As if you’re the husband-hunting type. I’ve watched you Emma ;  you run in the opposite direction as soon as the bride aims her bouquet.”

“And Mary Margaret was definitely aiming,” Emma pointed out, “but a month from now, I’ll be Elsa’s bridesmaid, so there you go. Doomed to singlehood as you put it.”

“I’m in that wedding too, second time as  best  man, third time in the wedding party, so am I also doomed?”

“I’m pretty sure it only applies to women.”

“How sexist.”

Now that his tie was hanging loose, he undid several of the top buttons of his dress shirt. He rolled up both sleeves, revealing his tattoos: one of a  compass  pointing north that he already had when they met, and the other of an anchor. The second one he had regretted along with his hangover the next morning, mumbling about looking like a bloody pirate cliché. Emma had informed him that it could have been worse – if she hadn’t been there to stop him,  Milah’s  name would have been encircling it.  Again, it was all a very good look on him, standing there in the light of the moon, the top of his shirt open, his arms exposed, and those surprisingly sexy suspenders. Her best friend was hot, it wasn’t as if this were a new revelation, but she had to admit that her body was responding to it more often lately.

It suddenly seemed as if the stars above had lowered and settled beneath the boughs of the magnolia tree that ensconced them.  Dozens of fireflies blinked around them, perhaps hundreds. Emma was rendered speechless for a moment as they all flitted and blinked around them. 

“Amazing,” Killian whispered, as if speaking would shatter the magic around them, “I’ve never seen them before.”

His words pulled her gaze away from the entrancing spots of light and to his face instead. The city girl thing meant fireflies had been rare in her life, too, and growing up in foster care meant she’d never had that idyllic summer evening of chasing them with a jar in her hand. Yet she  _ had  _ seen them before. She studied Killian’s expression, the way his eyes lit up in the moonlight watching the fascinating insects. He reached out a hand, and one landed there, crawling around and blinking in his palm before flying away again. 

It felt as if time had slowed, the branches of the tree cocooning them in some sort of enchantment.  Under that spell of dazzling light, fragrant magnolia blossoms, and singing crickets, Emma reached out and grabbed hold of Killian’s suspenders. Yet instead of yanking him to her, she stepped closer to him instead. She searched his blue eyes intently, her knuckles turning white as she held fast to those damn suspenders. His eyes darkened and his expression softened as he gently brushed her cheek with the tips of his fingers, then slid his hand into her hair. He slowly lowered his face to hers, brushing their noses, and God! was he torturing her on purpose? Evidently so, because he first dragged his lips across her cheek, then her chin before claiming her lips. 

 Even then, he didn’t speed up. He moved his lips tenderly across hers, then tilted her head to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue across her lips, asking for more, and she gladly gave it. She finally let go of the suspenders, taking her time dragging her palms over his chest and shoulders, then wrapping her arms around his neck. Killian still had one of his hands in her hair, but his other arm encircled her, pulling him flush against her. Emma was embarrassed when a moan escaped her throat. God, could this man kiss. She had always wondered . . . 

Emma gasped then, but not from desire. Her brain had finally reared up to ask what the hell she was doing. She pushed away from him, her face burning. 

“Emma -”

“- don’t,” she silenced him, unable to look him in the eye, “don’t say a thing, okay? It was just a kiss. Just . . . don’t follow me. Wait five minutes.”

She turned then and fled from the tree and the fireflies and the moonlight. Fled from her best friend who could apparently kiss the living hell out of her. Her best friend who had just muttered, “as you wish,” maybe on purpose. He knew that was her favorite movie, so what would possess him to say that? Unless . . .

No, no, no, no. Killian was her best friend. They had an understanding, a great platonic relationship. What the hell had she been thinking kissing him like that? Or had he kissed her first? She groaned as she slipped into the back of the crowd in the wedding tent, pressing her sweaty palms to her flushed cheeks. It didn’t matter. She had been the one to grab him. Stupid sexy suspenders!

*****************************************************

Three weeks, two days, five hours, and twenty-seven minutes. That was how long it had been since Emma had seen her best friend. Three weeks, two days, five hours, and twenty-seven minutes since their kiss. It had been the longest length of time she had gone without seeing or talking to him since they had met. Even when they were dating Neal and  Milah , they had at least talked every single day. It had been a sore point with her and Neal. He’d been extremely jealous of Killian.

The thing was, avoiding Killian also meant avoiding everyone else. Especially Mary Margaret because Killian and David were always hanging out, and Elsa because her fiancé was Liam Jones. Avoiding Elsa was an especially thorny issue since Emma was her maid of honor, but it wasn’t like her friend had a lack of attendants. Her own sister was her matron of honor, for God’s sake,  surely  she had everything covered. What the hell Emma would do when the wedding day actually arrived, she wasn’t sure. It would be a little hard for the maid of honor to avoid the best man. 

During week one, her friends hadn’t suspected anything. Emma sometimes got prickly and withdrew. When week two rolled around, they started texting and calling in concern. It didn’t take much for Mary Margaret and Elsa to discover she had also withdrawn from Killian, and both also well knew how odd that was.  So  Emma wasn’t really surprised when she received the ultimatum from Elsa at the three week, two day, five hour, twenty-seven minute mark: Meet me for coffee, or I’ll turn into a Bridezilla. 

Now, Elsa was much too kind to follow through on such a threat, so that wasn’t why Emma relented. It just made her realize how worried her friend was, and that was the last thing she wanted for Elsa a week before her wedding.  So  she dragged herself off the couch and away from Netflix to meet her friend. 

What she wasn’t expecting was to find not just Elsa but also Mary Margaret, Anna, and Tiana sitting at a table in the corner of their favorite coffee shop. Elsa’s entire wedding party. Tiana especially shocked Emma, since she and Naveen were still in the blissful haze of being newlyweds. They’d only returned from their honeymoon five days ago. 

Emma arched a brow suspiciously at them before sitting down. “Is this an intervention or something?”

Tiana arched her brow right back and slid a chair out with her foot. “In a way. Sit.”

People typically said nothing but “yes, ma’am” to Tiana, even if they weren’t from the South. Emma mumbled it herself with a scowl as she plopped down into the offered chair. The diamonds glistening on the fingers of all four women seemed to mock her. 

“Emma,” Elsa began, “we’re all worried about you. Liam and David are worried about Killian.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “What?”

“It’s true,” Mary Margaret added, “is it true you’ve been avoiding him for over three weeks now?”

Emma lifted a hand to stop their words. “If this is about the wedding, you don’t have to worry. I’ll be there, and I’ll also be on my best behavior.”

“You think that’s all that this is about?” Anna exclaimed, sounding deeply offended. “I’m the sister of the bride, so we’ve got it all covered. We’re worried about  _ you _ .”

“And Killian,” Elsa added.

Emma bit the inside of her cheek at the sight of Elsa’s furrowed brow. Was Liam really that worried about his brother? But it had just been  _ one  _ kiss . . . 

“What happened at my wedding?” Tiana asked. 

“What are you talking about?” Emma tried to sound nonchalant, but she couldn’t stop the traitorous blush that rose to her cheeks. 

Tian a leaned across the table. “Rumor has it you and Killian both disappeared for a while. Then you both showed up later looking flushed.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “We didn’t leave together or come back together.” Truth. “And it was just a warm night.” Partial truth. 

Her four friends exchanged glances that clearly said they weren’t buying  it.  Emma blinked. “Wait - did Killian . . . tell you anything?”

Mary Margaret looked smug. “I thought there was nothing to tell.”

“He’s been brooding ever since the wedding,” Elsa explained, “but he refuses to tell Liam why. All he will say is that you’re upset with him and that you won’t return his texts or calls.”

Emma let out a long sigh. She got a short reprieve when a waitress came over and took their orders, but when she walked away, her friends’ pointed stares and heavy silence let her know they weren’t going to let it go.

“I kissed him,” she finally hissed under her breath.

“Who?” Mary Margaret asked. 

Emma rolled her eyes. “Killian! Who do you think?”

“Wait!” Anna said eagerly. “Did you kiss him, or did he kiss you?”

Emma rubbed her temple. “Both, sort of? I don’t know, it’s all sort of hazy.”

“Were you drunk?”

“God, Tiana, no!”

She shrugged. “Just making sure.”

Their orders came, and in between sips of hot chocolate, Emma poured it all out: the teasing and flirting under the tree, the moonlight, the fireflies, and Killian looking so unfairly attractive in suspenders. She told them about fisting her hands around those suspenders and the slow-motion way Killian had bent towards her. She ended the story with pink cheeks, and it wasn’t from the cocoa. 

“Wow,” Anna said into the silence.

Emma groaned and covered her face with both hands. “I can’t believe I just  word  vomited all that.”

Mary Margaret reached out with a gentle hand to her elbow. “Emma, none of us are surprised.”

She looked up in confusion. “You’re not?”

Tiana shrugged. “Frankly, I’m surprised this is the first time.” She took a sip of her latte, wagging an eyebrow at Emma over the top of her mug. “I even  thought  you two were maybe . . . friends with benefits?”

Emma’s mouth dropped open, and her face went from pink to red as her friends all laughed. 

“Oh no,” Elsa said, “our Emma here has been far too oblivious for that.”

“Oblivious?”

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. “Come on, Emma, seriously? The yearning looks? The doey eyes?”

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t yearn.”

“Maybe,” Tiana quipped as if she didn’t believe her for one second, “but he does.”

Elsa squirmed. “Killian has never come out and said as much to Liam, but . . . Liam knows anyway. He can tell that his brother is in love with you.”

“I-in love with me?”

“It isn’t just obvious to his brother, Emma,” Anna told her, “it’s been obvious to all of us. For a long time.”

Emma looked in shock around the table at each of her friends. They were all gently nodding in agreement. Mary Margaret took her hand in both of hers. 

“And honey, you’re in love with him too.”

“Yeah,” Anna laughed as she took a sip of her  cappuccino , “that’s been obvious too.”

********************************************************

Maybe Emma should have contacted Killian after speaking with her friends, knowing that he was hurt by the wall she had thrown up between them, but she had far too much to process. Her friends said it was obvious, not just that Killian loved her, but that they loved  _ each other.  _ Could she really miss something like that completely? Misread her own feelings?

So  the wedding rehearsal ended up being the first time she had seen Killian since their kiss. Elsa, unlike Tiana, was not fond of the heat, so her late May wedding was being held in the ballroom of an old manor by the sea. The French doors would be thrown wide to let in the ocean breezes, but they would all be safely inside for the entire ceremony and reception. The ice sculptures and ice cream sundae bar also necessitated the air conditioning being cranked up. Instead of melting in the Louisiana heat, they might all freeze to death at Elsa’s wedding. 

The actual ceremony took place in the foyer of the manor, with the wedding party lined up on the wide staircase. The rehearsal was so hectic, with the wedding coordinator lining everyone up and making sure the music cues were correct, that Emma and Killian only exchanged quick pleasantries until his turn came to escort her back down the aisle. 

“I’m not mad at you,” she whispered to him as they made their way down the snow white runner. 

“Then why wouldn’t you return my messages?”

They were in the hallway now, crammed in with the rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen. It felt like everyone had grown quiet when they entered. 

“I just needed time to think about things,” she whispered in an even softer voice. She finally, for the first time that night, locked her gaze on his. His eyes looked sad.

“I wish I could apologize for kissing you,” he whispered back, “but I’m not sorry at all.”

Emma bit back a gasp. “You’re not?”

He shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. A tiny smile flirted with the corner of his mouth. “No. Are you?”

She bit her lower lip before letting a small grin fill her own face. “No. I’m not sorry either.”

His eyes lit up then, his smile broad and dimpling his cheeks. Emma lifted her hand quickly, resting it on his chest. HIs heart was thumping hard beneath her palm.

“But that doesn’t mean that I’m not . . . confused.” She frowned, wishing she could explain herself  better .

“Okay,” Killian said with a sigh. He glanced around the room where everyone was pretending not to be eavesdroppping. He lowered his face close to her ear. “We’ll talk after the rehearsal dinner.”

When Emma slipped out before dinner with a lame excuse to Elsa about not feeling well, she knew she was a complete and utter coward. 

***************************************************

Avoiding Killian at the wedding was surprisingly easy. Prior to the ceremony, all the bridesmaids were on the opposite side of the manor in the bridal suite getting their hair and makeup done. Elsa wanted Liam’s first glimpse of her to be when she walked down the aisle, so the guys and girls also took pictures separately. Talking was impossible during the ceremony, and even when the entire wedding party took joint pictures, it was too chaotic for a private conversation. 

Then they were all ushered into the ballroom amidst cheers from the guests. Liam and Elsa had their first dance, then the entire wedding party were seated at the head table. Emma had been expecting to be seated next to Killian, but the wedding coordinator had seated them in the traditional way with all of them sitting in a row facing the guests, men to the groom’s left, women to the bride’s right. As soon as Emma ate, she quickly slipped away under the guise of heading to the ladies’ room. She found a dark alcove, and seated herself there to wait out the rest of the celebrations. She knew she couldn’t avoid Killian forever, but today was just too much. He wasn’t wearing suspenders this time, but he still looked far too handsome in a suit and an ice blue bow tie that brought out the color of his eyes. Every time he glanced her way, her heart raced. The entire scenario was too similar to their first kiss. In short, she didn’t trust herself. 

She sipped on a flute of champagne as the DJ cranked out one party tune after another. She had a perfect view of the cake, so she didn’t miss Liam dabbing Elsa’s nose with icing and kissing it off. When the crowd thinned, she even snuck over to get a slice. She heard hoots and cheers and some sort of stripper music, so she figured Liam was removing Elsa’s garter now. Such a ridiculous, sexist custom, if you asked her. 

“And now!” the DJ cried. “The bride will toss her bouquet!”

Sure enough, he punctuated the announcement with Beyoncé's “All the Single Ladies.” Emma rolled her eyes. 

“Okay,” the DJ called out again, lowering the volume of the music almost completely, “we need the maid of honor on the dance floor. The bride says she won’t throw her bouquet without her. Maid of honor? Emma Swan!”

Emma tried to shrink farther into her dark alcove, but the entire ballroom had started chanting her name. It was only a matter of time before Anna discovered her and practically dragged her to the front of the room. Emma’s face burned as everyone laughed and cheered. Elsa winked at her. Emma pointed a finger threateningly, but her friend just laughed. 

Emma wasn’t fully aware of the set up until every other woman on the dance floor suddenly disappeared as the bouquet sailed through the air. Mary Margaret had aimed, but had failed to take into account Emma’s complete disinterest in catching. Elsa had upped the game. Emma either had to catch the damn thing or hurt the bride’s feelings. She just managed to grab it with the tips of her fingers, the petals skimming the floor. Everyone laughed uproariously as Emma lifted the bouquet half-heartedly. She did, however, accept her friend’s hug.

“That was low,” she whispered in Elsa’s ear.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Elsa whispered back. 

Now what did she mean by that?

“Okay, maid of honor,” the DJ announced, “tradition says the woman who catches the bouquet must dance with the man who caught the garter.”

Emma groaned.  Of course  it did. The DJ began to play Lady  Antebellum’s  “Just a Kiss.” The title of the song made dread fill her gut. Surely Liam and Elsa hadn’t . . . 

Oh ,  but they had. She turned to see Killian standing there, Elsa’s garter dangling from his fingertips and an apologetic grin on his face. 

“Sorry?” The word was cancelled out by the smirk and the cocky tilt of his head.

Emma scowled. “Isn’t that kind of gross? That was on your sister-in-law's thigh.”

Killian wrinkled his nose. “Seriously, Swan? You had to go there?”

She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her. This was the easy banter they had always shared. He crammed the garter in his coat pocket and reached to take her hand in his. He rested the other at her waist. As they swayed together, she was surprised to find that this was easy too.

“I’ve missed you,” he told her.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

They swayed silently, drawing closer and closer until his arms circled her waist and hers circled his neck. She fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Are you really . . . I mean, do you really . . . “ she let out a frustrated breath of air. 

“Yes, and yes,” he told her with a sparkle in his eyes. 

She rolled hers. “How can you answer when you don’t even know the question?”

“If I waited for you to spit it out, we’d be here all night.”

Emma smacked him in the chest as he laughed. When he drew her in his arms again, she rested her head against his shoulder. 

“The question, I believe, is:  _ Are you really in love with me?  _ Or alternately:  _ Do you really love me?  _ Therefore, the answer to both is yes.” He spoke the words against her hair, and when he finished, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“I don’t want to mess this up,” she told him honestly, pulling back to look him in the eye. 

He cupped her face in his hands. “Oh Emma, that’s impossible. Being with you can only make my life  infinitely  better.”

This time when they kissed, it was met with cheers and shouts of “it’s about damn time!” Not that either of them noticed. For them, they may as well have been back underneath that moonlit magnolia tree, hidden away with enchanted fireflies. 


End file.
